The Mob Doctor
by DarknessIsTheUniverse
Summary: Plot shamelessly stolen from the new show with the same title. Charles is a doctor whose sister Raven gets into trouble with the mafia. To pay off her debt, he agrees to a deal with the devil, mob boss Erik Lehnsherr.
1. Chapter 1

_** Thought I'd try something new. Let me know if you want me to continue and I will write something else for this.**_

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Raven is crying, sobbing so violently that he can hardly make out a word of what she is saying. It scares Charles more than anything has in a long time.

"Darling, please calm down."

His strong, witty, bubbly sister, reduced to tears on the other side of town for a reason he can't even begin to fathom. "Just tell me what happened. We can fix it, I promise-"

"N-no, you can't. You can't fix this, Charles," she sobs.

Charles presses the phone to his ear so hard his knuckles turn white. "What happened?"

Xxx

The Outfit. The mob. The actual mafia.

Charles is an educated man who likes to think he knows enough about almost every aspect of life. He has in fact known that there is organized crime in the city, has read about it in the newspapers or heard people in bars mumbling about suspicious incidents, deaths and disappearances more than once. But he has never known just how close to his personal little bubble it was thriving.

The drive to the ports didn't even take him thirty minutes. Thirty minutes away from his comfortable bachelors flat that he occasionally shares with stray cats and a wayward little sister, even closer to his occupation at the hospital where all of his colleagues and friends are working right this moment –and yet, standing out there in the dark, surrounded by large, empty factory buildings and feeling eyes following his every move, he couldn't feel farther from home, from safety.

There is a sound behind him - feet shuffling? Metal? He whirls around, heart skipping in his chest. For a second instinct takes over, yelling at him to run, to get to safety before it's too late.

His feet won't move though. He can't run. He can't abandon his sister.

Xxx

Erik Lehnsherr sighs in irritation at the commotion outside the door of his office. There are voices, loud and distracting.

He growls, strong fingers clenching around the pen he was just using. Didn't he specifically demand quiet? He is trying to work here. What the fuck are his men doing out there?

"No, I need to see him! Your boss, I need to speak to him!" A voice he doesn't recognize and that doesn't belong to his men.

He arches an eyebrow at that. No one has an appointment to see him tonight, much less anyone he can think of who would so adamantly demand to see him. Most people he deals with are usually trying to avoid seeing him. That of course is due to a reputation that he is rather proud of. He makes his living being frightening. Next to deadly and efficient of course.

The raucous outside doesn't cease, instead growing louder. Now, truly annoyed, he throws down his pen and stalks over to the door. Who the hell is that, daring to interrupt him? Apparently there is one person in this town left who hasn't gotten the message about not annoying Erik Lehnsherr yet.

Well, that can be remedied. Looks like someone wants to end up with the fish tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

_** Chapter 2**_

Thanks for your feedback! I'm happy someone is interested in this. Feel free to let me know what you want to see for this story or ask questions if you don't understand something :)

xxx

"Let go of me!"

Charles is trying his best to sound resolved and not as frightened as he truly is.

It's not easy faced with the situation he has somehow gotten himself into. Not that he is surprised that they found him walking around their turf so quickly –they're the mafia, it's part of their job to not let anyone walk in on their business unexpectedly. He just hadn't expected them to be quite as quick about jabbing a gun into his back and snatching him off the street, acting like they've just prevented a hostile takeover. Who do they think he is anyway? Can't they see he looks like a librarian, a professor at best? What kind of threat are they expecting?

Again, he pulls at the arm he is being restrained by, but the lump of muscle holding him barely seems to notice his effort.

"What the hell do you want here?" the man growls at him, shaking him none too gently. The other man in the corner has his hand inside his suit jacket and Charles can guess at what he is concealing. He feels his heart sink, sweat rising on his brow. So maybe wasn't the best idea to just walk into the territory of the mob unannounced and not expect anything like this to happen. But what choice did he have?

In lack of any sound alternative, he straightens as best as he can and decided to at least pretend to be strong and fearless.

"I told you, I need to speak to your boss about my sister."

His opponent opens his mouth, probably about to snap at him again, but before he can get a word out a door to the side of the hall they're in busts open.

"Logan, what the hell is going on out here?!"

Everybody falls silent and stares as a man, tall and broad, with dark, slicked back hair strides towards them. He is wearing an expensive looking suit and a deep frown that makes those of the rest of the men look not so scary after all.

"Porter messed up," the giant holding Charles, Logan apparently, growls, jerking his head in the direction of the other guy, "He left his post and when he got back this one had snuck onto the premise."

The man's gaze –hard, ice blue eyes- passes over his employee first and then lands on Charles, who can't help but flinch, a cold feeling spreading in his chest as that look goes right through him. He instinctively moves backwards but Logan's grip on his arm tightens painfully, keeping him in place. The man walks up to them, more slowly now, his eyes still fixated on Charles. He is probably trying to remember, categorize him, but they have never met and Charles has no connection to the mob, so obviously he fails.

"And who might you be?" he finally asks coolly, stopping short in front of them. He is tall enough that Charles has to tilt his head to keep eye contact. From up close the man's gaze is even more frightening, and Charles knows he's doing a poor job at hiding his emotions. He has no trouble at all imagining that this man has criminal potential. In fact he's half convinced he's about to get killed right here where he stands.

Nothing happens though other than the man staring down at him impatiently. It takes him a moment to remember his words and get them out in any sort of order. "I- my name is Charles. Xavier. I need to speak to Erik Lehnsherr."

"That's me."

Charles' gut twists, even though he should have expected that. That means this man is Newport's king pin. The Don, if this was the Italian mafia. The worst of the worst. Very disturbing images of all sorts flash across his mind and between that and his brain still screaming at him to, Run, run, run, he kind of forgets that he is expected to say something here.

"I- I'm here about Raven Darkholme."

Lehnsherr looks unimpressed at that, casting a questioning glance at Logan. "Blonde, hot, ditzy," the man reminds him, "Can't pay her debt. Deadline was two days ago."

"So what is this about? Compensation or something?"

Charles blanches at the casual implication and if he didn't know Raven was at his place right now, banged up and crying her heart out but safe, it would have been enough to make him faint.

"She ain't dead, boss."

Lehnsheer arches an eyebrow at that, "Why the fuck not?"

Logan shrugs in the direction of his co-worker again who tenses and Lehnsherr's frown deepens. Charles would be worried for the man who's obviously fallen out of grace by failing to do his job, if rising panic wasn't clouding his thinking. Before he can think better of it he steps forward, only survival instinct keeping him from actually reaching out to touch the man's sleeve. "Please, you can't hurt her…give her time to pay you back."

But Lehnsherr just looks down at him, unemotional, bored almost, "I don't run this business on empty promises, Charles. I know she won't ever have the money to pay me back so I might as well sell her body into prostitution and get some of it back at least."

"No! Please – I will pay you back. I swear you'll get the money if you just give me some time-"

"Do you even know how much she owes?"

He doesn't. He didn't get the chance to ask, racing over here in his haste to save whatever was left to save.

"250000 dollars. Can you get that to me by the end of the week?" he snorts, "I didn't think so. What else have you got?"

Charles swallows hard, his mind racing frantically, trying to find a good answer even though he knows there isn't one. He has sadly little he could offer. The apartment isn't his; he doesn't even own a car. He only has his college loans and Raven and what the two of them need to get by. Raven. All he has is his sister….he can't let her get hurt….

"I'm a doctor. I-I could help you with medical emergencies, if you ever need-"

He doesn't know what he's saying anymore. What, is he crazy offering such a thing? He has sworn an oath; he can't be involved with the mob, with killers! But Lehnsherr looks remotely interested for the first time now, studying him like he's pondering the idea.

"You any good?"

Charles can only nod. The next thing that happens he can't even process until it's much too late. Without warning, Lehnsherr reaches around his back and whips out a gun out of nowhere. A second later a deafening noise fills the air, so close to Charles are that he physically jumps back into Logan, and then the guy across the room goes down screaming, clutching a bleeding arm to his chest. Charles stands frozen, staring at the man in shock and horror until Lehnsheer moves towards him and he flinches back fearfully. The gun is already gone again though and the mobster's face is as impassionate as before.

"Let's see about that," he bares his teeth in what is supposedly a grin, "There's your chance, doc. Fix him up good and I might consider your offer."

He doesn't say what will happen if he doesn't do well but Charles can imagine. He can't imagine there are many living witnesses to this man committing a crime.

Doing the only thing he can to save now both his and his sister's life he hurries over to the injured man across the room, willing his hands to stop trembling as he assesses the wound.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! I just want to say thanks for all the feedback! I'm glad the story is interesting to you. :)

xxxxxx

Erik watches silently as the man, Charles he said his name was, goes from staring between him and Porter in obvious conflict and distress, gives him time to make a decision.

For a moment the flicker of fear in those blue eyes grows so strong that he thinks the young man will just turn and make a run for it, something that he wouldn't be able to allow at this point of course. To his surprise though, Charles eventually does turn around slowly, and begins to walk towards Porter, a wary eye still on him like he's afraid Erik will shoot him too if he turns his back.

He doesn't move, poker face on, merely one eyebrow raised expectantly. He's not quite sure what he's waiting to see, what he wants from this. Even if the doctor thinks his offer is a good one – Erik doesn't make it a habit to enroll civilians in his services, especially if they look like teaching assistants who might faint at the mere sight of blood.

Then again, he thinks as he watches Charles kneel down next to his bleeding employee and examine the man's arm, he is a doctor so he should be used to gore. His hands aren't shaking either, despite his obvious distress. Instead he is quick and efficient… Erik watches with waking interest as Charles pulls a pair of plastic gloves out of his satchel and checks Porters blood flow by tying a shoelace around his bicep. Looks like the kid is not completely useless then. Good for him. Still…

He absently nods to Logan when Charles demands a first aid kit, and his employee leaves the room to fetch one. Erik doesn't bother getting his gun back out to make sure Charles won't try to run. Not considering how invested he seemed about striking a deal on behalf if that Darkholme woman. And even if, Erik is fast, and has perfect aim. He didn't make it this far in the business by relying on the skill of other people. For now though he just watches, evaluating. Wonders who the girl is to him to make him run into mob territory and risk his neck so stupidly. Girlfriend most likely.

Not that it matters. He needs his money back and he'll get it. Selling her into prostitution probably is the best way for that since it seems she doesn't have the means to get any money anytime soon. Well, he probably should send Logan to go find her then…once he's done with Charles….

Erik frowns.

Done what with Charles? He watches the slight brunette who is now disinfecting a sewing needle. It seems a bit extreme to have him taken out but he can't just let him walk. He'll just cause trouble trying to help the girl and Erik can't really use any sort of attention on his person right now.

"He needs a painkiller," Charles voice breaks through his thoughts.

"No, he doesn't," he instantly replies, stopping Logan, who was being addressed, in his tracks.

Charles turns to look at him with a mix of disbelief and revulsion but Erik doesn't blink. Porter messed up once too often, he's lucky that the pain of a needle in his arm is all he'll get to feel.

"Do it," he tells the doctor who hesitates but eventually relents.

The next five minutes are tense, with Charles flinching more often than Porter who clearly only forces himself to stay relatively still because he is afraid of what Erik will do if he doesn't. By the end of it both are chalk white and bloody, and Erik has come to a decision.

"Fine," he shrugs, "we'll give this a shot."

He doesn't know what makes him decide this –he does need a doctor in his service, yes, but this choice obviously isn't a smart one. Then again, Charles has proven to be tougher than he looks and Erik knows from experience that no man is better to control than one who fears for someone he loves. He waits till Charles rises to his feet, walking up to him while he tears of his bloody gloves. Like before, the young man tenses, but he doesn't step back this time, meeting Erik's gaze with a mix of relief and determination. Erik stops short in front of him, taking a moment to take in the blue eyed gaze that meets his, and seems as misplaced here as the rest of Charles' appearance. Something about it is…interesting. Hm. He can't quite put a finger on what he is thinking but he figures 'interesting' is enough of a description for now. He sees so little in his day to day life that's truly interesting. Maybe it is worth seeing where this will go after all.

He leans down until they are eye to eye, wanting to smirk when Charles flinches slightly, and says, "I hope you know what will happen to you and your lady friend if I am made to regret this."

He waits for Charles to swallow hard, then nod jerkily.

"Great, we're agreed then. Let Logan escort you off the premises and give him your contact information. We'll call you when we need you." He turns back toward his office, not waiting to see them leave.

xxxx

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

_** Another chapter, who would've thought! Thanks so much for your feedback everybody. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. As for questions, yes there will be more chapters, and no they do not have any powers.^^**_

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The next time he comes into contact with them is two weeks later.

Charles is startled, shocked almost when he sees the dark van in the parking garage of the hospital with two familiar figures standing next to it, watching him emerge from the elevators, so obviously waiting for him.

It's not like he has forgotten about the deal with the devil he's made –he would have just really like to. But apparently Erik Lehnsherr doesn't feel the same way.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to not just turn around and run like he wants to. He knows he doesn't have a choice in this, not if he wants to make sure raven stays safe. No one has come after her again, so he assumes that Lehnsherr has decided to stick to their deal…at least until Charles screws up somehow.

"Hello, Doc," the burly guy named Logan grins at him as he reaches them, seemingly ignorant of Charles' apprehensive expression and stance, "Boss man has got a job for you. Get in, we'll take you there."

He thinks about protesting. He's just worked a 30 hour shift and raven is waiting for him at home and every fiber of his body is screaming at him not to get into that van –but he doesn't doubt that Logan's seemingly friendly mood can just as easily shift, not to speak of the other guy lurking in the back ground. He kind of looks like Logan, same dark hair and strong built, similar style of clothing, but he has a scowl on his face and a hand on the gun on his belt. Clearly not someone up for games or negotiation.

He gets in the car.

"Where are you taking me?" he asks fifteen minutes later when they drive off the highway and onto a less busy road that seems to lead out of the city.

"You're not here to ask questions," the guy with the scowl snarls at him, making Charles flinch.

"Victor," Logan chides from the driers seat, "don't get nervous, kiddo, Victor's just a big grouch."

Charles has no trouble believing that. He tries to stick with Logan when they finally stop and get out of the car, not that he has much hope that that will save him in case something happens.

They are out in the country and there is only two or three houses surrounded by fields he can see in the setting sun. They walk into the one right in front of them and Charles is ushered through long dim hallways into what looks like a bed room.

There is a man lying on the bed, middle aged and grey, his face red and sweaty. His shirt is torn around his right shoulder, and there is dried and fresh blood on every piece of cloth in his proximity.

In a chair on the other side of the room, Erik Lehnsherr is sitting, dressed as impeccably as the first time they met, and just as immediately intimidating. His expression doesn't change as he looks up and sees Charles has arrived. The man on the bed, however, sputters and wheezes as he tries to get into a sitting position.

"Who the hell is that?"

Charles flinches at his wild expression, immediately feeling even more anxious than before.

"He's a doctor, Hank," Lehnsherr says calmly, folding the paper he has been reading, "Why would you rather I had gotten you a stripper?"

Charles blushes furiously, shocked more than anything at those words. The man on the bed just scoffs derisively. "-just a freaking kid…" he mutters.

"It's that or the hospital, Hank," Lehnsherr comments, somehow managing to look completely indifferent even when panic flickers across the man's face at his words.

Charles has no idea of the dynamics here, he can only assume that the injured man is a criminal and that that is why he can't go to the hospital. He wonders if he is one of Lehnsherr men or associates…but the mob boss doesn't look worried or even….interested.

Charles gulps. Maybe that is just his default setting. He doesn't want to think about how much of a sociopath his new employer really is and how that will factor into his chances of surviving this –so he focuses on what he is obviously here for instead.

His patient snarls at him but eventually lets him works on his injury. He has lost a lot of blood after a poorly done stitching of what looks like a stab wound. It's infected.

He tells the men as much.

"Your advice?" Lehnsherr asks coolly.

Charles looks at the man on the bed, biting his lip. Lehnsherr just raises and eyebrow, then, impatiently get up and grabs Charles arm, pulling him towards the wall out of hearing range. "What?"

"He's in bad shape," Charles explains, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation of the other man's hand on his arm and his corresponding heart racing, "He'll need something to stave off the infection, there are medications that I can tell you to get. But even with them it's not certain he'll make it through the night."

"He'd better. I need him to pull off a business transaction next week." Somehow, even though this shouldn't be Charles' responsibility, he manages to make it sound like a threat. He tries not to look too frightened by that.

"I'll make you a list. You can have someone pick up what I need and I'll help him as best as I can."

Lehnsherr just looks down at him for a moment with that same vaguely dark gaze that he always wears, his grip on Charles' arm not relenting. He is either not noticing that it is almost giving the doctor a heart attack or he doesn't care about that either.

Eventually, thankfully, he nods, and let's go. Relief washes through Charles and he walks back towards the bed, away from Lehnsherr, as soon as he thinks it's alright for him to do so.

By the time Logan is leaving the room to get the supplies, the mob boss is already back to reading his paper, leaving Charles and victor in uncomfortable silence.

It takes another hour for the supplies to arrive and Charles to do his work as best as he can given the setting. Eventually though, he backs away from the bed, his patient having fallen asleep from exhaustion. It's surely in the middle of the night by now. For the dozens time, Charles remembers Raven.

He looks at the men in the room questioningly. None of them move.

Charles frowns nervously. He doesn't know how this works. Can he just leave now? Is there a protocol? Is he supposed to walk back to the city?

"Well, I'll just-" he moves towards the bedroom door experimentally, half thinking no one will even acknowledge his departure now that he's done his job. He jumps when Lehnsherr head snaps up, his pinning gaze stopping him dead in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, home?"

"You're staying. I need you to watch him through the night and make sure nothing happens."

Charles opens his mouth to protest but faced with a one again darken expression on the mob boss' face, not a sound comes out. Dejected, he relents, shoulders sagging. He blinks, standing around the room, lost. He's so freaking tired…in general, but also of the nerve-wracking exercise that is being in the same room with three armed criminals.

It takes a minute then Lehnsherr looks up again, a perfect eyebrow raised. "That doesn't mean you have to stand the all night, Charles. Sit. Logan, get Charles some coffee, will you?"

Logan leaves the room and after a moment, Victor follows.

Charles stands and stares at the only free chair in the room, right across the table from Lehnsherr. Suddenly he finds that maybe he'll be okay standing over here all night. Another sharp look let him know that that isn't an option either though. Slowly, reluctantly, he moves and goes to sit with the mafia boss. It's fine, he tells himself, he'll just sit there while Lehnsherr reads-

Or not. As though on command the man shifts in his chair and puts the newspaper away, his light eyes shifting to fixate Charles.

"So, Charles. Tell me something."

He swallows, hands clenched nervously by his sides. Suddenly Lehnsherr doesn't look so disinterested at all anymore. He immediately wishes they could go back to that.

This is definitely not how he imaged his night would go.

xxx

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